


always your first mind, don't get caught slippin'

by milatte



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, M/M, Public Hand Jobs, Public Sex, to an extent...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 18:27:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7325725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milatte/pseuds/milatte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander recoils, staring at Thomas in utter bewilderment. "Are you... are you seriously suggesting that jerking me off in a cinema is a good idea?"</p><p>Thomas simply smiles.</p><p>"Absolutely."</p>
            </blockquote>





	always your first mind, don't get caught slippin'

**Author's Note:**

> can you literally fucking believe some musical has inspired me to write about a former president of the us jerking another founding father off in a movie theatre what is wrong with me
> 
> BY THE WAY SORRY IF THERE'S ANY MISTAKES i wrote this in sections and patched em all together so ...yeah. this sort of turned out to be a writing exercise but it seemed alright to post so here we are i hope you like it x
> 
> side note: the title of the film is actually one i made. god i WISH it was in cinemas. also sincere apologies for using a clipping lyric for the title i just love them So Much

They're both standing in line outside Cinema 4 at the Royal, Alexander tapping his foot impatiently as they wait for the doors to open, Thomas's arm draped loosely around Alex's small waist.

Alex is busy mouthing off about something or other, and Thomas is nodding absently, not quite listening, focusing instead on Alex's head tipped back against his chest and the whiff of coconut from their shampoo coming from Alex's silky hair.

He tunes back in again, briefly, entering the torrent of speech at the moment Alex is busy complaining about the exact film they're about to see. "What kind of name even is 'If Was', anyway? What's this thing about? I swear to god, you and your arthouse movies-"

"My God, you have no appreciation for art, do you? It's a local indie film. It's got some generic straight couple in it, but apparently the soundtrack is good."

And that proves to be a mistake, as it begins Alex off on another one of his tirades, head tilted onto Thomas even now as he continues to gesture wildly. He's still going off on something about heteronormativity when the movie attendant finally shows up, rips the little stubs off the ends of their tickets and waves them both into the theatre, smile plastered plastic-like on his face.

They wander in, hands clasped and swinging together, and slink to their assigned seats to slump into the cushioned backs. They're on the little balcony in the middle, feet resting up on the fence-like obstruction in front of them, and it's only when the lights begin to dim slightly and the curtains draw themselves back with a velvety flourish, that they realise - they're the only ones in this entire theatre.

Alex cackles with laughter when he realises this, elbowing Thomas good-naturedly. "Did you really bring us to a movie so shitty that you're the only one who wants to watch it? Holy shit, Thomas! I didn't think you could get any more hipster, but here we are!"

Thomas frowns and pinches his side in retaliation, watching him squirm away. "Fuck off, Alex. Stop being such an utter tool. And anyway, look on the bright side - we can do or say whatever we want, and there's no old people here to angrily shush us if we do."

Alex smiles at this, lets the warmth melt onto his face, pressing himself up against his boyfriend to curl into his (unfairly) muscular arm that's still wrapped up around Alex's slim shoulders. The lightbulbs flicker into near-darkness within a few minutes, the only light in the cinema emanating from the painfully fluorescent and artificial colours painting themselves across the big screen, highlighting Alex's not-quite-visible cheekbones when Thomas turns to look.

The movie's just started playing out, dulled colours flashing across the screen, oddly psychedelic music floating by in the background, scenes of characters cutting in and out and weaving a story in between. It continues in much the same fashion for the better part of 15 minutes, but at some point, Alex wiggles and stretches out his lithe limbs, curling his knees into himself and muttering childishly, "I'm bored."

Thomas rolls his eyes, picks up his boyfriend's hand in his own to lace their fingers together. "Listen, baby, I don't know what to tell you. What do you want me to do? Be your personal entertainer?"

Alex grins, toothy and wide, "you already kind of are, though."

Thomas sighs and pointedly tries to ignore that comment, thinking of some, any, way to keep Alex from yapping during the entire film. And then it hits him, and it's a stroke of utter genius (if he does say so himself) My God, how had this idea not crossed his mind earlier?

"You know what we haven't tried?"

Alex turns and pouts petulantly, brow furrowed. "What."

"Y'know... doing dirty shit in public." Alex is visibly confused at this point, but Thomas continues his little train of thought - "like, if you're so bored, I could get you off right now. You wouldn't be so bored then, huh? Don't you think it would be exciting?"

Alex is still curled up next to Thomas, but straightens his body up in the chair to turn and look at him property. "What the fuck are you on about?"

Thomas grins, makes a quick and dirty motion in the air with his hand, imitating jerking someone off, and stares Alex down as he nods to his crotch.

Alexander recoils, staring at Thomas in utter bewilderment. "Are you... are you seriously suggesting that jerking me off in a cinema is a good idea? You can't be serious."

Thomas simply smiles, the faintest hint of a playful smirk on his face as he nods, not breaking eye contact with Alex once.

"Absolutely. It's not like anyone's gonna see, right? We're totally alone. I could literally fuck you right over one of these shitty little seats and no one would care in the slightest."

Alex flushes darkly at his words, sinks down in his seat and leans over to rest against Thomas's bicep. His words are muffled into muscle when he speaks again - "But what if someone came in? I don't want to get caught, isn't it, like, illegal? I don't want to go to jail over having my boyfriend jack me off in a cinema, what the fuck-"

Thomas shushes him, pulls him into his arm and smooths a kiss to the top of his head. "You're not gonna go to fucking jail over this, don't worry, no one's going to walk in. This cinema's all ours. And I just want to get you off, baby, that's it."

Alex grunts out a little half-moan, half-complaint, still snuggled up against Thomas, but hyper-aware of his free hand tapping manicured nails into his own knee. "It's not a crime to want to make my boyfriend feel nice, now is it? I've been thinking about you all day. It's like torture when you wear these fucking sweatpants of yours - I can always see your dick through them, you know that?" 

Alex's little tired grunts are slowly morphing into moans as he rubs the side of his body against Thomas a little more, letting himself be lost to his boyfriend's presence, acutely aware of Thomas's hand moving off his knee. He's closer and closer to Alex with each movement, pressing over the thick denim of Alexander's jeans. 

"I mean, I still maintain that you should really invest in a nice suit to wear once in a while - your daily clothes are so grubby, Lex. It's a little gross sometimes. But God, sometimes I just love seeing you all filthy like this."

His long, slim fingers splay widely over Alex's inner thigh when he reaches it - his fingertips are almost at Alex's crotch, smoothing gently at the seam where his zipper ends. Alex bucks up into the touch, bubbling with heat under his skin now - his cock is pressing insistently at his fly, semi-hard at this point, twitching ever so slightly.

"Please," he whispers, barely audible, and Thomas presses his palm back into Alex again, a little more pressure this time. "What was that? Speak up, lovely, I can't hear you." 

"Please, please, more, touch me more, Thomas-" slightly louder this time, but it's still hushed into Thomas's side, and Thomas extracts his hand from where it rests on Alex's clothed dick, ignoring his needy little whine and instead cupping Alex's jaw to tilt him up.

"You'll have to be louder. How can I give you what you want when I can't even hear you, Alexander? Ooh, are we having second thoughts about your apparent disdain for this idea earlier?"

Alex is practically on the verge of tears right now, just wants Thomas to give it to him, something, anything - he's so frustrated, hips jerking up uselessly into empty air. "Get on with it, please, oh my fucking God-" louder now, pleas twisting themselves into desperate little whines - "yes, I want it, Thomas, just get it over with before someone comes in, for fuck's sake!"

Thomas sneers, teeth bared, and lets Alex have it, whatever he wants, right out of the palm of his hand. After all, who would he be to refuse his boyfriend - especially when he's putty in his grip, moaning, coated with a light sheen of sweat, gorgeously pliable and desperate for any kind of touch Thomas feels generous enough to give him.

His hand is back to smoothing gentle pressure over Alexander's dick again, and he pulls the zip down, pops the button that's already straining. Folds the fabric of Alex's jeans back, exposing the plain silky black of his boxers (that they bought together, Thomas thinks, chest swelling, unbearably warm with affection), and he closes his hand around the prominent outline of Alex's cock.

He can feel everything, despite the layer of clothes separating the touch - the stifling heat, that one thick vein up across the underside that makes Alex weak at the knees when Thomas sucks him there, the steadily growing damp spot spreading at the tip. He can't deal with it anymore - needs contact, needs skin, needs to feel him - and so he shoves Alex's boxers down, a little more urgent than before.

He pulls Alex out, takes him in hand, and presses their bodies together even closer - Thomas is swiping the pad of his thumb over the head, slit already sticky and a little wet with precum, the palm of his hand focused on twisting up and down, back and forth, gripping firmly. He's making sure to take his time - just the way Alexander likes when he's all strung out, basking in slow and reverent touches like they're glimmering, golden rays of sunlight and he's a cat stretched out to soak up the delicate warmth.

Still, Alex is busy whimpering underneath Thomas's touch, hips making frantic little jerks, cock twitching against his pudgy stomach where it's dripping onto him in steady, clear droplets. The precum is pooling in a sticky mess above his bellybutton, and fuck, he just looks so wrecked and still so incredibly, breathtakingly beautiful. There's a thin trail of spit dribbling from the corner of Alex's mouth, a few tears collecting at the corner of his open, wide eyes, so deep-set and impossibly dark and framed by sets of fanned, straight lashes that are fluttering with the movement of his eyes.

He looks so incredibly needy and it's making the heat of want in Thomas's stomach bubble unbearably, watching Alex become so debauched like this, whining, dick in Thomas's hand and bucking his hips up to meet his grip.

Thomas is still continuing his ministrations - hasn't stopped, in fact, pulling fast and smoothly at Alexander's cock in his haze of lust, watching as it twitches against him and the vein on his underside pulses. He's getting close, it's easy to tell - he's completely lost himself to the feeling, focused only on Thomas's hand, the push and pull getting him off, eyes unfocused, staring past the movie screen and tiny moans slipping through his parted lips.

And - oh, shit, there it is - Alex's dick twitches, spasms, heavy in Thomas's grip, and he lets out an utterly filthy, obscene moan as all his muscles tense simultaneously, then melt into a satiated puddle of relief. He comes hard, but slow; Thomas's hand is still working him up and down as his cock shoots the half-translucent, grossly sticky cum out, dripping like treacle down the lines of his stomach.

Thomas tucks him back into his boxers when he's completely spent, but leaves his jeans open, in favour of instead using his hands to swipe long, slim fingers through the mess on Alexander's belly and lick it clean off, one by one. Alex is panting, looking up, smiling slightly and slumped in a heap in his chair.

They blink at each other for a few seconds, suspended in thick silence, the air around them mottled with heat. The movie is closing up by now, some character is crying on screen but it's hard to care about that right now. 

Alex beams. "Thank you."

The response he gets is a laugh, a stroke to his hair with Thomas's clean hand. "No problem. I love you, yeah?"

"I love you too. But we've still got a bit of a problem, baby," he punctuates his reply by running his hand down one of Thomas's long legs to where his neglected dick is straining at the fabric of his pants. "Don't you want me to take care of you too?"

The film has drawn to a close, curtains meshing together smoothly and lights just beginning to brighten back up, illuminating the two figures tucked up and lost in each other.

"Fuck, would I love to. But we have to go now, Lex-", and he's interrupted by a warm, familiar hand grabbing his and pulling him up out of his seat, out of the theatre, (ignoring the bright, embarrassed flush of the usher who passes them on their way out of the cinema and likely knows way too much) and by some chance miracle they manage to make it all the way to their car, a shitty, beat-up hunk of metal and rust.

And if Alex can barely wait until they get into the car before he pushes Thomas down in the backseat and shoves his jeans to his thighs, grinds onto him, stubble catching on silky boxers as he mouths wetly at his outline - well, Thomas isn't exactly complaining.

**Author's Note:**

> ok but if diggs can write a song like hot fuck no love im totally entitled to write dirty shit about founding fathers, probably


End file.
